"The world... ravaged... the sun beat down on the carbon stricken rock. Civilisation... a distant memory. Human-robot sex... the norm. Each day, every day, survival and ... how? this-thus."

A not too distant, distant too hot near-future.

Thursday, 25 November 2010

Don't shoot the messenger

But what are you to do if the messenger arrives on your doorstep bearing bad news, you have a loaded gun in your hand and the authorities care little for investigating Mercurial murders - as long as you're willing to spare them the inconvenience of corpse disposal and the mopping of any congealed blood pools that may offended the sensibilities of by-passers?